Joined Oddities
by AshtonCat
Summary: A simple but brave attempt to pair Bilbo with a female OC. Takes place after his return to the Shire. It's meant to be just very sweet.
1. Miss Mila Greenhill

I think there aren't enough stories shipping Bilbo with a nice lady of the OC kind.

I'm going to make a brave attempt to remedy that.

Bilbo isn't mine, neither is the design of the Shire or the whole middle earth universe.

But Mila, boys and girls, she's of my own personal design.

Now I think this deserves a proper Mary Sue warning too, if we should believe in labels.

Bit shallow, don't you agree? Deeming every non canon girl as a Mary Sue. But Alas, so be it.

Hope you'll enjoy the first chapter.

Takes places after Bilbo returns from his dwarf adventure.

(To any possible followers/fans of the In Solitude story.. relax, sit back down, have some herbal tea with a ginger snap. I'll continue with it)

**Joined Oddities chapter 1 **

…

The bachelors of the Shire never thought she was a good catch.

She looked different than most Hobbit lasses, who were generally admired for their curvy forms and curly hair.

Mila had neither. She was thin, very thin. She always had been. When she was younger people asked her mother if the child was sick.

Her hair had messy waves, no small frizzy curls. It only curled when it rained.

She didn't really enjoy the art of cooking, broidery and gardening. Nor did she daydream about having ten children with a handsome, rich Hobbit lad.

Instead she spend her days reading, writing and drawing portraits of the local livestock.

She was an undesirable example of the female specimen of the Hobbit race, to her family's great regret.

Mila was young, but most Hobbit lasses married when young, and she was well overdue with settling down.

"when will I see my grandchildren, Mila? Oh I'd love the pitter patter of tiny feet in this big ol' empty house of ours" her mother said frequently.

"why am I supposed to take care of that? What about Hugo? He got married" Mila shot back, not looking up from her book.

Hugo was her older brother. Married a lovely perfectly good Hobbit lass a few years ago. Yet children were not underway. Another oddity of this family.

"I know they do their best. I wish I could say the same about you, young lady!" said her mother, to Mila's slight disgust.

Why would anyone want to know what her brother and his wife were doing their best at in their perfect little bedroom.

"is there truly no one you fancy around these parts, Mila dear? There must be some Hobbit lad that caught your eye..anyone at this point!" her mother said,

throwing her hands in the air out of exasperation.

"well if you must know, mother dear" said Mila, placing her book on her knees, smiling up at her mother. "I think I'll go off and marry mister Bilbo Baggins and have

some children with him, how about that? In fact.. I think I'll go ask him right away" she got up from her chair, but was shoved back down.

"You sit back down, young lady. You're not going anywhere, asking anything from that unusual oddity of a man. He was gone for three years, if I may remind you!"

Mila just laughed, grabbing her book, looking for the last page she read. "Lucky him. Alright then, mother. I won't ask him to marry me"

"Or have children with you!" her mother reminded her, making her daughter cry out in laughter even more. "Or have children with me, got it"

"That runs off into the blue, not even bothering to close his bedroom windows. Oddness, Mila! Beware of it. It's a dangerous trait in any Hobbit.

I always thought he was such a respectable man. But of course he turns out like this. Just like his mother, he is" Mila peered over the edge of her book to follow

Her mother busying about the kitchen, mumbling and huffing.

"he smells nice" Mila stated simply, looking back at her book quickly when her mother made a sharp turn.

"And how would you know what mister Baggins smells like, if I may ask?" she asked, her hands in her sides.

Mila shrugged. "he used to smell like the smoke from his pipe. Now he smells like river water and mountain air"

Her mother just stared at her like her daughter had turned green right before her eyes.

"Mountain air?!"

"Yes. Or.. ale and campfires.. sometimes. But that was when he just returned. I think he washed his clothes rather thoroughly" said Mila.

Completely unaware of her mother's nearing nervous fit.

"You go about the shire sniffing out the local bachelors and whoever smells like something outside the Shire you fancy, am I correct?" her mother said.

"I don't fancy anyone. I just think he smells nice" said Mila, not looking up from her book anymore.

"he smells like trouble, that's what he smells like. Ever since he got back a week ago, he's been locked up inside his home. So unsociable" said her mother.

shaking her head in disagreement.

"Maybe he's tired from his journey, mother"

"nonsense! Unsociable, odd.. "

Mila rolled her eyes. There was no talking to her mother.

"and don't roll your eyes at me, young lady! You're well underway to become an oddity yourself with this behavior! Whatever happened

to that nice, fine lad Peter Sandville? He seemed to take quite a liking to you. Brought you flowers and everything, freshly picked like every

self-respecting Hobbit lad would do. What happened to him?" her mother went on.

Mila sighed. "he was captured by elves and died a slow, painful death combing their hair for the rest of his life" she grumbled.

Milandra Isabel Greenhill! I want no such language in my house, do you hear me?! When your father comes home, I'll tell him about this!"

At this, Mila got up from her chair and disappeared into her bedroom. Leaving her mother to huff and puff to herself.

She would climb out of her bedroom window as soon as her parents were asleep, going down the old stone road to pet the ponies at farmer Buckers stable.

* * *

After his arrival back at the Shire and fixing the ransacking of his house, Bilbo Baggins had gone to bed and slept for three days straight.

Not even bothering to bathe first, he had gotten so used to smelling himself. And after all, there was no one he had to smell nice for, was there?

On the third morning of waking by the sound of the happy, little careless birds of the Shire, he had rolled himself out of his bed and into his bathroom.

Where he had simply ended up falling asleep in his bathtub..

Waking about an hour later in stone cold water.

So he dragged himself back to his bed to get warm and woke a day later with a bad case of the sniffles.

Unsociable was an understatement, really.

Now, a week after his arrival, he was able to get a few things done around his house without falling asleep in a chair somewhere.

His cuts and bruises didn't heal as fast as he had hoped because his body was simply weakened by the whole ordeal.

And of course, the Hobbit was in mourning really.

Not just by the deaths of friends that had meant a lot to him, but also because he missed the company altogether.

He missed Gandalf gentle chuckling at the loud, boisterous antics of the dwarfs during the cold nights around the campfire.

And even though his blanket had been scratchy and thin, and his clothes had been wet, and his hair sweaty and his stomach empty.. he missed those nights.

Now his bed felt so luxurious that he almost felt bad for using it, knowing so many people that had far less than that.

He could eat all the food in the world if he wanted to, but his appetite hadn't been restored yet, he had been used to so little food for such a long time.

Sometimes the walls of his house seemed to close in on him. It seemed so small compared to the world outside.

And the world had been his home for so long, with just the starry sky as his blanket. He missed peering up at the galaxies while he tried to sleep, listening to

the snoring of the dwarfs.

It was the same thing tonight. It was dark and getting late, and it even rained a little bit. But he had to go out. He couldn't stay inside, he needed air.

He grabbed his coat and left the house. Perhaps a stroll around the Shire would help calm him down and give him an appetite.

At this hour, no one was outside their homes, especially in this weather.

And that is how he liked it. He didn't want to say hello every three minutes while strolling down the path.

He rounded a corner and bumped into something that fell to the ground in an explosion of sheets of paper "Ouch, watch it!"

He recognized the voice. "Miss Greenhill? I'm sorry I didn't see you. You're not carrying a lantern" he helped her up and proceeded to pick up the artwork.

Mila brushed the wet grass from her dress. "Neither are you, mister Baggins. Oh no, don't look at it. Please.." she plucked the sheet from his hand.

"what are you doing outside at this hour?" Bilbo asked, picking up another piece of artwork that was quickly plucked from his grip as well.

"well I..I could easily ask you the question, could I, mister Baggins? It's no hour or weather for proper Hobbits to be outside, is it?"

He chuckled a little and nodded. "I guess we're no proper Hobbits then, miss Greenhill. Though I have hope for you yet" he said.

"Are you looking for your dwarf friend?" Mila asked, stuffing the sheets of paper back into her satchel.

He frowned, looking at her. "dwarf friend? How did you..what do you know of it?"

"well he knocked on our door about a year ago. The day before you left. He asked for directions to your house. He was lost"

He couldn't help but smile at this little untold detail. Of course, Thorin had been lost the day the dwarfs gathered at Bagend to start their journey.

He never said he actually scared some locals to ask for directions. Especially not the ever so respectable Greenhills, goodness. That must have been something.

"Thank you, miss Greenhill. You just made this rainy evening a whole lot better. Give your regards to your parents from me, will you do that?" he said.

"Are you sure? They really don't think you're all that, you know" Mila said. "especially since you hang around with dwarfs.. mother was quite shocked when

I told her I thought the dwarf was rather handsome"

Bilbo chuckled softly. "You must be heading back home now, miss Greenhill. I don't wish for you to catch your death in this blasted weather" he turned around to leave.

"will you not tell me who he was, mister Baggins?" she called after him.

"Maybe some other time" he called over his shoulder, leaving her to smile at his back in the rain. She would get it out of him yet.

* * *

That wasn't so bad now, was it?

It's not very romantic yet but all in good time..


	2. chickens and flashbacks

Part two of Joined Oddities

It's rather hard to stay true to characters and at the same time let them meet.

So it takes a lot of thought to write these chapters.

Side note: Yes, Thorin is a little gruff. I like him though, don't worry.

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites and follows!

Hope you enjoy chapter two.

* * *

Mila stared into nothingness holding a sack of flower while her sister in law Priscilla proceeded to knead the bread for dinner.

"Isn't kneading bread the best thing ever, Mila?" Priscilla said, looking up at her with a hopeful smile.

"amazing.."

"Oh I do love baking sweets. But making bread for dinner just feels so.. so.. like I'm doing a good thing, you know? Something for all of us" Priscilla went on.

"like going into the woods to shoot a deer" said Mila, looking to the side to see priscilla's horrified expression. "for dinner.. and then serve it with bread"

Priscilla mouth opened a little like she wanted to say something, but her expression just turned from horrified to scared.

Mila blinked. "what?"

At that moment her brother entered the kitchen, a pipe in his mouth. "what are you doing to my wife, sister?"

"she talks about going into the woods to kill deer" Priscilla huffed, continuing with the bread, breaking eye contact with Mila.

"Leave the deer alone, Milandra. We're eating chicken tonight" Hugo chuckled, taking a piece of the dough to taste.

Mila rolled her eyes, took a handful of flower and flung it into her brother's face before leaving the kitchen.

She had wanted to disappear into her bedroom after that, but of course her mother didn't let that happen.

"Mila, if you're done helping in the kitchen, could you please go outside and feed the hens? I completely forgot to feed the poor girls"

So that's why the chickens were clucking up a storm. They had returned to their pen when it was getting dark and there they had found

no food ready for them, and everybody had to know about it.

With a basket full of leftover vegetables from the kitchen, Mila stepped outside, a piece of carrot dangling from her mouth.

* * *

"Good evening, miss Greenhill"

She turned to see mister Baggins standing in front of their little gate, a small smile on his face.

"I see you haven't had dinner yet" he went on.

She quickly took the carrot from her mouth and threw it in the basket. "good evening, mister Baggins. What are you doing here?"

He looked up at the sky. "just doing my evening stroll through the Shire. It helps me sleep. Are you aware you're covered in flower, miss Greenhill?"

She looked down at her green dress, covered in white, dusty clouds of flower.

"My sister in law and I are making bread.. or my sister in law is making the bread and I.. watch her do it and feed the chickens" she said, holding up the

basket to show him.

He nodded and reached into the pocket of his coat. "I meant to return this to you. You dropped it the other night, the wind must have carried it away

before I found it" he handed her a sheet of paper. The quick sketch was of Thorin, how he had stood in front of the Greenhill's little gate that fateful night.

"I must say. The likeness of it is remarkable. You're rather talented, miss Greenhill" Bilbo said.

She looked at the sketch for a moment before handing it back to him. "Keep it, mister Baggins. He was your friend"

After a moment of hesitation he took the drawing from her and bit his bottom lip. He wanted to say thank you, but he couldn't produce any sound.

His tongue seemed to forget how to talk when he was overcome with emotion.

Instead he nodded, smiled awkwardly and left, folding the drawing carefully and tucked it back into his pocket.

Mila watched him go, unaware of the presence of her mother behind her.

"Milandra! The hens!"

Mila was snapped out of her thoughts by her mother's sharp voice. Reminding her of the clucking chickens in their pen.

She was dying to know what mister Baggins had been doing with his dwarf friend in the year he had been gone.

He had left so abruptly, very unlike him.

He was always such a respectable gentlehobbit. But never boring. There was always something different about him.

She hoped she would get the chance to tell him about her encounter with Thorin someday. She chuckled thinking about it.

It had been an evening as any other. Her mother was preparing dinner when someone knocked heavily on the front door.

Her father had peered over his book, his pipe in his mouth, looking rather scared. Nobody in the Shire had such heavy knuckles, or refused to use the doorbell.

Mila had answered the door, her father peering over her shoulder.

The heavily armed dwarf looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. "I'm looking for a Hobbit named Bilbo Baggins" he had said.

She had looked at him, up and down and crossed her arms. "well who wants to know?"

He shifted his weight uncomfortably and sighed. "where can I find him? You'd do best to answer the question, girl"

"Now, here say" her father had said "That is no way to address my daughter, mind you. Mister Baggins lives at Bagend, up the hill to your left.

It's the biggest house around, you can't miss it. Now would you please get out of my front yard, you've all but ruined the flower beds"

Mila had chuckled at her father's sudden bravery.

The dwarf huffed and turned to leave. "Oh and do close the gate, please" her father had called after him.

At that, Thorin had slammed the little gate into its lock, making it shake and creak violently.

They had watched as he made his way down the road.

"He's going the wrong way" her father mumbled. "He should be turning left there.. he's turning right. What a blockhead"

"daddy!" Mila had scolded him and they had laughed about the whole ordeal.

* * *

She was sure mister Baggins would have loved to hear this story.

Lost in her thoughts, she was still standing in the middle of the chicken pen, when the chickens were long finished with their dinner, and were now

curiously peering up at her.

She snapped back to reality when dinner was announced by her mother.


	3. Thunder storms

Chapter 3 is up!  
thanks for all the favs and follows.

Enjoy!

Chapter 3: thunder storms

She had not seen mr. Baggins for days after their last encounter. In fact, no one had. Some, who lived closer to him, said he had locked himself away in his house, refusing to come out. But everytime Mila brought up the subject of Mr. Baggins to her parents, her mother simply stated she had been right all along about him. He was an unsociable, unusual Hobbit. Her father, as usual, didn't voice his opinion as loudly as his wife. Instead, he made a habit of telling his daughter not to worry her pretty little head over it too much. Mr. Baggins was a grown up Hobbit who knew how to take care of himself.

To take her mind off Hobbits her mother didn't agree with, Mrs. Greenhill had taken up the hobby of inviting marriageable Hobbit lads over for tea. Mila tried her best to avoid being present during these tea parties, but sadly her mother knew most of her hiding places. She made sure her daughter said hello to every single one of those poor boys, and she also made sure she'd be wearing her prettiest dress for the occasion.

"say hello to Haldor Beanstake, Mila.. he came all the way from the other side of the Shire to see you"

Her mother said as she gently pushed her daughter toward a pale looking young man with buckteeth and dirty workman's clothing. Who was obviously holding a cup and saucer for the first time in his life.

Mila rolled her eyes. "Hello, Haldor Beanstake.. do you always walk two hours to gawk at girls?" thus Mila Greenhill completed the embarrassment for her mother. And well deserved too. Haldor Beanstake. What a name. she endured three of these meetings during the last few days before she made her escape through her bedroom window one night. She would not say hello to another butcher's son, craftsman's boy or farmer's apprentice. She sneaked out when her mother was opening the door for another suitor, under the impression her daughter was preparing herself for the meeting, in other words, putting on the dress her mother had laid out for her.

It was raining, but Mila didn't care. Anything to be away from another meeting. She would have to be away for a good few hours to give her mother time to steam out about her daughter's disappearance, letting her father deal with it. She decided to occupy herself with spying on Mr. Baggins, as she had done when she was a little girl. She had always had the feeling he knew darn well she and her friends were spying on him, but he never let them notice. Quite the contrary, she remembered he had once chased her around his yard yelling something about people from Bagend finally going completely mental and eating children for luncheon. she had screamed with delight. One of the highlights of her early childhood. She followed the path up to his house and peered through the window next to his front door. It was dark. There was only one light, and it seemed to come from the kitchen.

His front door wasn't closed, it was left slightly ajar. Probably to let the cool, autumn air in. The air smelling of fresh rain and the last days of summer. "Mister Baggins, come out, come out wherever you are" she mused softly, more to herself than to anyone as she placed one foot inside his home, peering around the door. "Have you ran off on us again, mister Baggins? Chasing dwarves around" she continued, a little louder, trying to make her presence known. The only reply she received was a loud snore coming from the kitchen.

She blinked at what she found when she stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He had fallen asleep leaning over his kitchen table, sprawled out over the drawing she made of Thorin. It would have been an endearing sight if it had not been for the empty bottle of wine and the used glass next to him. She vaguely remembered her father telling her a story about a drunken Bilbo once. But he had been quite younger, and his father had been right there drinking with him. He always made sure to leave that part out of the story if her mother was around.

She approached him slowly and gently shook his arm, not wanting to startle him. But not startling Bilbo Baggins was an art form all by itself and he sat up so fast, his chair fell backwards and he landed on the stone floor, knocking over the empty bottle in the process, making a horrible ruckus. "I'm sorry!" Mila said. "Are you hurt, sir?" he sat on the floor, trying to make his eyes focus, but the room was spinning and he sniffed, curling his nose in slight agitation. "I'm up! I wasn't..wasn't sleeping" he mumbled, clearing his throat. He peered up at her and frowned. "What are you doing in the wilderness so far from home, miss Greenhill? Did Gandalf put you up to this? You know the trick with him is" he lifted a finger to make his point. "realizing he's very.. very old and not so very sure of everything as he appears to be"

She kneeled down in front of him, staring into his eyes. "You're drunk" she said. He huffed and looked around, taking in his surroundings. "Now that would be.. quite.. the understatement. Quite possibly the understatement of the year, miss Greenhill. But what of it? I may very well do what I wish to do in my own house, thank you very much"

She shook her head and chuckled. "Never a dull moment with you, mister Baggins, is there?" he frowned, gazing out in front of him, staring into nothingness. "Actually they always thought I was quite boring to be honest" he mumbled. "Who did, sir?" He didn't answer, just swallowed thickly. "Let's get you off the floor, mister Baggins. I don't want you to catch cold. I think it's time for bed." She said and took his arm to pull him up. He swayed, feeling dizzy, but she held on to him. "I don't feel so good" he mumbled. She placed his arm around her shoulders. "No one would after so much wine, sir. You need to lay down and sleep this off. You'll have quite the headache in the morning" she said, keeping her voice soft to be mindful of his head.

They slowly but steadily made it to his bedroom where she gently lowered him onto the huge bed, made for two. His parents' bed, no doubt. He sat on the side of the bed and closed his eyes, but opened them quickly as he felt like falling when he could not see. He felt the matrass move and looked to the side to see Mila sitting next to him, giving him a small smile. "Will you be alright now?" she asked. He frowned, thinking for a moment. "I don't think I'll ever be again, to be honest" he mumbled, lost in his mind and memories once more. She didn't know what to say. She had meant if he'd be alright for tonight, but he was too far away to reach right now.

It was silent between the two for a while. Both listened to the rain outside. Thunder could be heard in the nearing distance, crossing the many fields on the outskirts of the Shire. It would build up in strength before it would reach Hobbiton. There could be horrible thunder storms during the last days of summer. Storms that had frightened her as a child.

"You're the first girl in my room" he suddenly mumbled, gazing off into nothingness with a sad, contemplating expression. "It was my parents' bedroom, I was born here, quite possibly conceived too" thunder cracked, causing a dog to bark down the road. She was curious to learn more about Bilbo Baggins, it wasn't that. But he was drunk, he didn't know what he was saying. The last thing she wanted is that he would wake up in the morning, remembering what he had told her and never want to speak to her again. "How about we talk about the weather?" she proposed, feeling desperate. "How about we talk about anything but the weather" he mumbled, looking up at the window, rain pouring down the stained glass.

"You need to sleep, mister Baggins" she said softly. "Get some sleep, master burglar. Eat your soup, master burglar. Control your pony, master burglar" he mumbled, his eyes drooping as he lay down on his side, no longer able to sit up. She had no idea what he was talking about, all she knew was that it had to do with his adventure. She raised his legs onto the bed and placed a quilt over his now shivering body. He was going to feel dreadful tomorrow. But that wouldn't be her privilege to witness, she had seen enough and she knew it.

She closed the front door as she left, pulling her cloak around her a little tighter. It was time to go home. Time to face her mother's anger. But somehow she knew she wasn't going to mind it very much this time. She had other things to think about now.


	4. A story to tell

Chapter 4 is up!

So all who looked forward to it, here you go. Sorry for the slow updates.

His head had pounded like this before, when he was thrown against a rock by an orc. But this he had done to himself, and he bloody well knew it too. He also knew he had not been alone for the entire evening, someone had been there to help him into bed, and he knew exactly who it had been. She was curious to a fault, she always had been, not a very desirable trait in a hobbit lass. But he had to admire her bravery and kindness nonetheless, and he owed her something now.

So it came to be, that he knocked on her door the very same afternoon, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously. He wasn't nervous to see her, but more so her parents, especially her mother, and of course, mrs. Greenhill was the one to open the door.

"Master Baggins?" she said, drying a cup with her apron. He smiled, awkwardly and tried to look passed her. "Good afternoon, I'm looking for your daughter, I have something to tell her" he said, but she blocked his view.

"Yes, I bet you do. And it won't be anything a decent hobbit lass is in dire need to hear either, I bet. Nothing good ever came from Bag End" Mrs. Greenhill sneered.

He sighed, getting frustrated with the woman and tried to stare her down. "Now listen here, Mrs. Greenhill, I am well aware that you don't like me or anyone with the name Baggins, alright? You never did and you're not known to change your mind about anything ever so I don't expect that to change anytime soon. And now we've said that to one another, I still want to speak to your daughter. Something happened at my house last night and I.." he stopped talking, aware of how he was putting this and how much larger Mrs. Greenhill's eyes suddenly seemed.

"Now, now.. nothing like that..I was sick..unwell" he tried, but had to duck for a cup was send flying his way, crashing into a hundred pieces on the cobble stone road in front of the house. "Get out of my yard!" the round woman spat "Or I'll get my husband to box your ears!"

He was a gentlehobbit enough to take most of her abuse, but threatening him with a fist fight went too far. "Oh don't make me laugh, I faced dragons and trolls out there. You honestly think your husband can scare me?!" he said, standing his ground. But he made no sense to the woman in front of him, and she simply stared at him, baffled. "All you faced out there were your wits flying away like leaves on the wind! Dragons and trolls! Don't let me catch you anywhere near my daughter from now on, or I'll be the one coming after you! And no dragon can save you then!" with that, the door was slammed in his face.

Still panting, he stared at the door. Never in his life had he been treated with less respect than by this insufferable, fat piece of..

"Well that was nicely handled" a voice said behind him. Mila stood in front of the little gate, carrying a basket. She had returned from the market. "I take it you weren't invited in for tea?"

He huffed, curled his nose and looked down at his feet. "Not quite" he mumbled. She chuckled and shook her head, taking an apple from the basket. "I was kind of hoping she would send father out to get you. I wondered what that would have resulted in" she said, taking a bite, juice trickling down her chin.

He rolled his eyes and stepped out of the yard, closing the gate behind him. "well it doesn't matter now. I got what I wanted" he said, smiling lightly.

"did you now?"

"I wanted to speak to you. About last night. I..I know you were there, you think I don't remember do you? I very well do. You were there, first in my kitchen, then in my bedroom. What happened after that, I don't know and I'm not sure I want to" he explained, gazing at her. "what did we do?"

She stared back at him for a moment and stopped chewing. "You're not implying that you think we.."

"I don't know! I don't know what we did! I just told you, I don't remember! I was drunk! Wasn't I?! but you weren't!"

"did you say all of this to my mother?!"

"Of course not! I didn't..I didn't mean to imply it either but.."

"Are you out of your mind?! Honestly I'm starting to think she's been right about you all along! I helped you into your bed and left! Does my mother think we.. does she?!"

Silence..

"Maybe a little.."

Her eyed widened like saucers, she stared at him, her mouth slightly open, giving him a detailed view of what a half chewed bite of apple looks like in someone's mouth. "How can anyone be this bad at explaining something so innocent?!" she said in exasperation. "why would you drink so much anyway? What in the name of everything sacred in this world happened to you out there, mister Baggins?! I think I have a right to know now!"

"Yes! Yes you do, especially after I got you in so much trouble.. once again! Well done, Bilbo, old lad. Very well done, splendid job" he growled, frustrated with himself. He ruffled his curls in annoyance and looked around. "I'm a much better burglar than I am a gentlehobbit, miss Greenhill. Let's start with that statement, shall we?"

She blinked. "Let's start with these burglar references, how about that? Are you a thief, mister Baggins?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "Oh no! no of course not, I would never!" he started, but she interrupted him. "Because my mother seems to think you're stealing me away" he stared at her, not really understanding what she was trying to say. "especially now that she thinks I gave my honor to you last night" she went on, making him swallow nervously.

"well you didn't, did you? You're still perfectly intact, oh bloody..what am I saying?! It doesn't matter what she thinks, nothing happened! Everytime I run into you some disaster takes place in your family. I don't want to be responsible for that anymore!" he said.

"You still owe me your story, mister Baggins. Let's leave eachother be after that, shall we?" he nodded at her suggestion. She did deserve to know, she had come so close already, there was no use hiding it now. "Come by my house tonight and I'll tell you where I went and why, does that suit you, miss Greenhill? Suit you enough, at the least" he said. She nodded and smiled, giving him a pat on his arm. "There are worse things in this world than angry mothers, mister Baggins. I'll live" she said and with that she left him standing on the cobblestone road in front of her house. His feet only started moving when he heard her front door close.

Apart from her curiosity to learn where Bilbo Baggins had gone off to the past year, she also needed the excuse to get away from her mother. Who was, after her encounter with gentlehobbit, nearing her breaking point of insanity, anger and shock. But it was Mila's father who needed to calm her, it wasn't up to her. And so, after bedtime, she snuck out of the window once more and headed for Bag End.

Bilbo had been nervous for her arrival for the rest of the day. How to tell a story so complicated and emotional as his adventure, a year long adventure in which he lost more than he gained. And he wasn't even telling it to someone who even remotely understood what life out there was like, outside the safe borders of the Shire. Nevertheless he opened the door when he heard the knock and invited the young girl in.

She didn't wait for anything and sat down in a chair after throwing her cloak down on a side table. "Alright, I'm here now. Out with it" she said, crossing her arms and giving him a look of expectation. He cleared his throat nervously. "tea?" he asked her politely. She rolled her eyes. "Can we not do this whole proper Hobbit thing? I don't want bloody tea!" "Mind your language, you're in my parents' house" he told her and sat down in his own chair in front of her.

"Alright, so let's start with the dwarf. Who was he?"

Thankfully she guided him into his story with her questions, he wouldn't have known where to start himself, but it seemed obvious she wanted that question answered first. The question of Thorin Oakenshield. He told her all about him, the dwarves, their quest, Gandalf, Smaug, Azog, the dark lord Sauron. He went into details about the elves, the goblins and the orcs. The hours went by as she stared at him in almost breathless silence, listening to his adventure like a child being read a scary bedtime story. When he felt he told her everything he simply gazed at her, trying to figure out what kind of expression he was reading on her face.

"I think that's about it" he mumbled, looking down at his now cold cup of tea. "did it meet your expectations, miss Greenhill?" she blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and frowned. "He died? The king under the mountain died?" she asked. He bit his bottomlip and nodded. "Yes, he died. And so did his nephews. The end of the line of Durin"

"no! no that, that cannot be the end of it. I.. I thought your story would have a happy ending" she protested and got up. "well I didn't make the rules, miss Greenhill, I just lived through it. It went how it went without my control. Yes he died, the king died, and it was probably my fault too. And now I have to.. live.. with this ending. I cannot change it. You cannot change it either, not by shaking your little fist, stamping your little feet, there's no way you or anyone can change it. And that's it, miss Greenhill! There's no more to tell!" he said, getting up too.

Bilbo Baggins losing his patience was one thing, him getting angry was a rarity and she didn't think she liked it much. But atleast now she understood where these emotions came from. "it wasn't your fault, mister Baggins. You didn't kill him" he huffed "well I sure didn't defend him either! I just..laid there being unconscious and useless, like always. They would have succeeded without me, I think" he sat back down, rubbing his tired eyes until they felt sore.

"No" she said, kneeling down in front of him. "I think you're the hero in this story, mister Baggins. But you seem to think you're the villain and the cause of all that went wrong. You're torturing yourself" she spoke softly. He was silent for a few moments, gazing at her calmly. "You should go home" he said finally "it's almost morning and I suppose your parents don't know you're here. Despite what I did or didn't cause in another world, I would like to spend a few more years in this one. And I don't see that happen if your mother finds out you spend a night at my house" he gave her a quick, nervous smile.

"One would almost forget about the simple obligations in life once they heard stories like yours. My angry mother doesn't seem like the end of the world anymore, nor her reasons to get angry in the first place. If I can offer you comfort for all you went through, I gladly face her in the morning" she whispered but he shook his head and stared at her sternly. "You're going home, miss Greenhill. Now.. I'll be fine" he said and got up to hand her her cloak. "You're not fine. Not by a long shot. But you're stubborn beyond believe and that probably saved your life many times" she shot back and grabbed the coat he held out for her.

"Now why are you so cross with me? Do I really deserve this attitude? I just told you something no one else is supposed to know around these parts" he said, following her to his front door while she wrapped herself in her cloak. She turned to him in the open door, preparing herself to enter the early hours of the morning and the pouring, cold rain that came with it.

"My mother says you'll never marry" she said. Causing him to stare at her in confusion, his mouth agape. "what has that got to do with anything?" he asked. She shrugged and smiled. "Now I told you something no one else is supposed to know around these parts. But if you ask me, whoever she might be someday, she'll be a lucky woman. She'll marry a hero" before he could react to her words, she had leaned in and given him a quick kiss on the side of his mouth. "Promise me to tell her I kissed you first though" she laughed at his expression and hurried off, clutching the hem of her skirt to keep from falling. He remained standing in his door opening for a long time after she had disappeared, not really aware of what just happened.


End file.
